“Nice,” one of the newcomers says.
“I was grounded the entire week of Christmas because of you,” another girl says, standing inches in front of Abby, whose eyes are trained on the ground. “Did you hear me?” the girl adds before poking Abby hard in the shoulder with her manicured nail.
I try to get up, but Jenny is faster than she looks. “Stay out of it,” she warns, kicking my legs out from under me.
“Now, girls,” Claudia says and three sets of eyes turn toward her, but mine stay trained on Abby who looks like she’s going to pass out. “I think it’s time to show Blabby Abby how we deal with babies who can’t keep their mouths shut.”
I watch, waiting for the punch, but it never comes. Instead, I feel a tug at my belly button. I look down and see a silvery cord. I glance back up in confusion at Angelica a moment before my soul is hurtling toward the scene. I stop for a split second before my seventeen-year-old spirit slams into my eight-year-old self.
Chapter 15
I can’t even begin to describe what it feels like to crash into your own body. I’m not talking about the initial shock. That wears off pretty quickly. I’m talking about the disconnected feeling. All the hours of dance and tumbling for cheerleading are wasted. In this situation my arms and legs refuse to do what I want. I feel like a stranger in my own skin.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge all the information I’m going to need for this test. I don’t know how long I have.
“Did you say something?” Claudia sneers down at me.
I pick myself up off the ground, my still-developing body giving me the balance of a newborn calf. I don’t remember being this short. I step back to take in Claudia and for the life of me I can’t figure out why we were afraid of her. Sure, she’s bigger than us, but only because of her baby fat. Without her friends, Claudia would be a frumpy girl with wild hair and bad breath.
“What’s your problem?” I ask in a squeaky voice. “Why do you have to pick on kids who are littler than you?”
“Oh. Somebody must have found a little courage while she was flapping around on the ground.” Claudia takes a few steps forward, leaning in close, and I turn away. Her breath really is bad. “I warned you about staying out of this, didn’t I?”
One second ticks by and then another. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I want to punch her smug face right in the nose, but given the fact that Claudia is almost a foot taller than I am and has a good twenty pounds on me, it’s probably not the best choice. Plus, I’m outnumbered.
Instead, I push past her and race over to Abby. Her eyes are wide with wonder and fear. “What are you doing?” she whispers when I offer my hand to help her stand.
“What I should have done before,” I answer, before I can stop myself.
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but she doesn’t ask any questions as she takes my hand and lets me hoist her up.
“Now, let’s get out of here,” I say.
“What about them?” she asks. The fear in her voice shatters my heart. The older me is getting mad. Little kids shouldn’t be afraid to come to a playground.
“Forget them,” I say, loud enough for Claudia and her friends to hear. “They don’t scare me.”
“Oh really?” The words register in my brain just before I go sprawling across the blacktop. The knees of my new jeans rip and I can smell the blood oozing from the scrape. I remember these. They’re my first pair of designer jeans. Mom brought them back from a business trip to New York City.
I stagger to my feet before spinning around to face Claudia. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?” I growl.
“Like I care,” Claudia retorts. The glint in her eyes is pure evil. I’m pretty sure I’ve had the same one in my eyes on several occasions.
I don’t think Claudia expects to have a fight on her hands and the idea is bringing out the worst in her. I motion for Abby to follow me. “Come on.”
“Are you stupid? I told you to stay out of this. Now it’s time for you to learn your place,” Claudia says with a hateful laugh. She motions to her friends and I watch Jenny and the other girls circle in front of us. I have to admit, they’re doing a good job of stopping our retreat. They remind me of a pack of wolves closing in on an injured deer.
“I’ll distract them. As soon as you can, make a run to my house and get my parents. Whatever you do, don’t come back without them,” I whisper to Abby.
“But they’re going to kill you,” she whispers back.
“Wouldn’t be the first time today,” I mutter. To Abby I add, “I can handle them.” Turning back, I hope what I’m saying is true.
Before she can argue, I spin back to Claudia. “Did you have something to teach me?” I try to send out as much confidence as my scrawny body can manage. It’s not much, but it does get their attention.
“Hold her, girls,” Claudia says.
Now it’s time to see if this body will respond to some evasive maneuvers. I dodge past Jenny and head toward the other end of the playground, away from Abby and my best escape. My speed surprises both of us as I race to the far end of the playground. The gate that’s normally open during the summer is sporting a lock and chain. I hear Claudia laughing like a hyena behind me. “Stupid kid.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Abby dart out of the playground and sprint toward my house. “Yeah, I’m the stupid one. But I don’t have to bully people to feel good about myself,” I say, full of bravado. I don’t know if it’s because I won’t have to nurse the wounds in the morning or because I’m pretty sure she’s not going to kill me, but I’m not afraid of Claudia. “Do you get some sort of sick thrill out of picking on people?”
Claudia’s eyes narrow and I realize that I sound more like my mom than an eight-year-old kid on the playground. I try to put on a look that’s a mixture of surprise and fear and hope she isn’t smart enough to get suspicious because the truth is, this girl could break me like a tooth pick. Luckily, Claudia’s rage is still focused on Abby. Well, lucky for me, anyway.
“She got us in trouble,” Claudia said, opening and closing her fist.
“You got yourself in trouble,” I counter. “Smoking is dumb.”
She steps forward. Her hand is tightly clenched in a fist. “Did you just call me stupid?”
“Technically, I called you dumb, but it’s the same thing.” I watch Claudia motion to Jenny.
I don’t have time to move before the girl locks my arms behind my back. I struggle to get away, but I forget how strong she is.
“Let me go,” I demand, shifting from side to side, struggling against her grasp.
“Hey,” Jenny says, looking around. “Where’s Abby?”
Everyone looks around the playground for her. Except me. I’m looking at Jenny’s bright pink tennis shoes. With every ounce of strength I have, I lift my foot and crash it hard in the center of her orange laces. She howls out in pain. It serves her right. Orange and pink do not go together. They never have, no matter what anyone says.
I race past Claudia, bending low to ram my shoulder into her gut.
“Ouch!” she gasps. But a moment later she recovers and is in hot pursuit. Her legs are longer than mine but I almost make it to the front of the playground entrance before she catches up. Grabbing the hood of my coat, she yanks me back, and once again I’m looking up at the starless sky.
“I’m done talking,” she growls.
I watch as she raises her fist back, ready to smash in my face. And I don’t react. I don’t try to protect my face. I just watch her fist as it moves in slow motion. First back and then picking up speed as it nears my nose. And then I do the only thing I can. I roll out of the way and her hand smashes into the blacktop. I think I hear the tiny bones breaking in her hand, but I’m too busy scurrying out from under her to care. With their leader howling in pain, the rest of the girls are paying more attention to her than me. I race toward the entrance and run full force into the wool coat of my dad.
“What’s
going on here?” he asks, looking between me and Claudia.
I glance behind him and see Abby crossing the street with my mom. From the look on her face, someone is in a lot of trouble. I just hope it isn’t me.
“Um, I think she broke her hand?” I say, pointing toward the group of girls.
“What did you do?” my mom asks me, rushing over to Claudia.
“Nothing,” I answer. “I mean, when she was going to punch me in the face I moved, but I didn’t touch her, Mom. I swear.”
She pauses for a moment and looks at Claudia. “Is this true?”
I don’t know what Claudia says, but I see the disappointment fade from Mom’s face and pride sweep in. “Well, we should get you home.” She helps Claudia stand up.
“I’ll get the car,” my father says.
I can’t believe they’re being so kind to the girl who tried to beat me up. But a few minutes later, our tormentors are driving away with my father who’s on the cell phone with Claudia’s parents. I wonder how he’s going to explain their daughter’s condition.
My mom takes my hand and leads Abby and me back to our warm house. It isn’t until I’m in clean PJs and sitting in front of a cup of steaming hot cocoa that I find out about Abby’s mom and the car accident that took her away from her family.
That’s when the silver cord tugs and I’m soaring into the night sky away from the tears and sadness.
I land with a thump next to Angelica. When I look up, her eyes are brimming with tears and joy.
“You did very well,” she says, pulling me into her arms. “Thank you.” Her embrace is warm and nothing like I would expect from a ghost. But there’s something else about it that triggers the humming in my brain. Something familiar. It smells of lilacs.
I step back to look at her. She has the same red hair and big blue eyes. How did I not see it before?
“You’re Abby’s mom. But I don’t remember you looking so …”
“Young, relaxed, fabulous?” she asks, tossing her ginger locks over her shoulder.
“Well, yeah,” I admit. Abby’s mom was always rushing out of the house in a flurry of activity. She never let her hair down—literally or figuratively.
She throws back her head and laughs. “I like you, RJ. I haven’t always liked you, but I like you now.”
“Because I didn’t stand up for Abby?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes. I understood why you ran that night at the park. You were a kid. But I could never figure out why you didn’t go back. You just left her to face those girls alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping it doesn’t sound as lame out loud as it does in my head. But there’s nothing else to say. I don’t know why I didn’t go back, either. I think it was Claudia’s threat to ruin my chance of being popular. And I honestly didn’t think they were really going to hurt Abby.
“There is no need to be sorry anymore. You made up for everything just now.”
I blink back the tears from my eyes. Her forgiveness is more than I’m ready for. “How did I do that?” I whisper.
Angelica hugs me again. “You saved my family.”
“I didn’t—”
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, cutting off my argument. “But you did. After my funeral, your mother stepped in to arrange for local churches and business leaders to bring meals to my house so that my husband, a widower with five children, didn’t have to figure out what to make for dinner. She persuaded the mortgage company to give him a three-month grace period on the house payments. She also made sure my entire family was given time and space to grieve. And she kicked them in the butt when it was time to pick up the pieces and start moving on. For that I will always be grateful.”
“All because I helped Abby?”
She nods her head. “My husband was broken after my death. If not for your mom, well, I’ve seen the future they would have had and it wasn’t a good one.”
I bite my lip and look away. She may know what happened to her kids in the old lifeline, but I don’t. Abby and I never spoke again after that night. Her dad lost his job and they moved in with her grandmother in Tulsa. “What happened with Claudia? Did she stop harassing Abby?”
Angelica’s smile widens even more and I’m afraid her face might split open. “With you by her side, my daughter will never have to worry about being picked on again.”
The tears are falling freely now and I wipe them off with the back of my hand. “You mean we’re still friends?”
“Yes. You’re not as close as you used to be, but once a year you meet up at the playground for a mini-reunion,” Angelica says, giving me another gentle smile. Off in the distance, a chime rings and she stands. “It’s time for me to go.”
I reach out for her, not wanting her to leave. “So, did I pass?”
She pats my hand gently before placing it in my lap. Before backing away, she touches my cheek. “It’s not my decision, but if they ask me, I’ll tell them you aced it.”
And then she’s disappears. And I’m alone. Again.
Chapter 16
I don’t know how long I wait for the next ghost to arrive, but it feels like forever. After a while, the white mist takes on the dark appearance of storm clouds, and even though I can’t feel any change in temperature, a cold shiver runs over me. Through the dense fog I see a figure approaching, and when the shadow emerges, a boy with eyes the color of gooey honeycombs glares down at me. Why does it seem like everyone in the Afterlife is mad at me? Okay, sure, I probably wouldn’t win a Miss Congeniality title, but I can think of tons of people who lived worse lives than I did. Hitler springs to mind.
“You ready?” he growls, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his black jeans.
I can’t stop staring at him. He is the definition of hotness. The dirty-blond hair topping his tan, square face is tousled like he just woke up. I move closer to get a better look at him, but he shrinks away.
“Have we met?” I ask.
He shakes his head but doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns and walks away.
“I knew Angelica. Well, sorta. So it makes sense that I would know you, too.”
“You don’t know me,” he says, not even bothering to look at me.
“Well, can you at least tell me your name?”
“Trevor.”
The hostility coming from him hits me hard. Yeah, I probably did something to him. Death Himself must have had a blast picking out the ghosts who hate me almost as much as he does.
“Where are we going?” I ask, following behind him.
“I thought you wanted to get back to your life.”
Sarcasm sucks when I’m not the one dishing it out. “Yeah, but I could use some words of wisdom or something.”
He stops short and I almost run into his strong, lean back.
“You want a pep talk?” he asks, turning slowly to glare at me.
“Um, I guess. Sure.”
“Because I’m not warm and fuzzy. Not like Angelica.”
“Yeah, I get that.” What is this guy’s problem?
“Fine. My advice: don’t be you.” I can feel the color drain from my face and a look of satisfaction appears in his eyes.
He turns sharply and walks away.
“Hey!” I yell after him.
He stops but doesn’t turn around.
I’m shaking as I walk toward him, my hands forming fists. “Who do you think you are?” He doesn’t answer. “I’m talking to you,” I yell and grab his arm, spinning him around. He turns his head away, but I’m not about to let him avoid me any longer. I take a step closer, daring him to look at me. “You don’t like the duty of escorting me around, fine. I get it. But you don’t know anything about me, so quit being such a jerk.”
“You sure about that?” he asks, stepping back, but at least he’s looking at me again.
“What?”
“Forget it.” He begins to walk away.
This time, I fall in step with him.
“What do you mean? I thoug
ht you said I didn’t know you.”
“You don’t. You never took the time.”
“Whatever,” I say, throwing my arms up in frustration. “Keep your secrets. I’ll do this without your help. And then you can move on and be out of my life.”
“What life? You’re dead, remember?”
“That’s temporary.”
“Right,” he says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice.
“Look, whatever your problem with me is, I don’t care.”
Trevor spins around, towering over me. He’s not keeping his distance anymore. In fact, if he were any closer, I’d have to grab onto him to keep from falling backward.
“My problem,” he hisses, “is that you might actually get a second chance to ruin even more people’s lives.”
“Ruin lives?” I laugh. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”
“What? You think every spoiled princess who croaks in her prime gets a do-over at life?”
“I wasn’t supposed to die. It was an—”
“I know. An accident. The whole Afterlife knows. You think gossip travels fast on Earth. Trust me, it’s nothing compared to this place,” he says, waving his hand in the air.
“At least someone is concerned with my situation. Customer service up here is horrible.”
“Trust me. No one cares whether you go back or not. What they’re really interested in is whether you’re going up or down. Did you know you could place a bet on it? It’s like Vegas before the Super Bowl and in case you’re wondering, the odds are not in your favor.”
My mouth drops open but no words come out.
His lips twitch into a sneer. “Speechless? I bet that’s a first,” he says, stopping suddenly. “We’re here. Just like you wanted.”
I look around and take a deep breath. “Uh, this doesn’t look any different than where we just were.”
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on the inner working of the universe? My mistake.” His eyes pinch together and he runs his hands through his hair so fast I think he’s going to pull some of it out.
“Fine. Where are we?”
It's a Wonderful Death Page 10
